Vehophobia
by Anonymous367
Summary: Train tracks. The squealing of tires as the driver desperately tries to hit the brakes. The events of what Ponyboy was told about his parents' crash tumble around in his mind every time he gets behind the wheel of a car. Ponyboy is fifteen and it's time for him to get his license but will he want to?
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! This is the second story I'm working on and I wanted to give you a preview of what it's going to be about. This one is probably going to be a lot shorter than my last one. I hope you like it! I do not own the Outsiders- the amazing S.E. Hinton does:)**

 **Ponyboy's POV:**

It's a warm, lazy summer day, the kind where you've has so many of them by now that there is nothing left to do. I'm fifteen and my life is starting to straighten out. Sophomore year is one of the easiest (or so I've heard) so I can't wait to start school again.

"Hey Ponyboy! Do you want to practice driving with Darry and I? It's almost time for you to get your license. C'mon, it'll be a blast!" Soda says, shaking me and jumping all around the couch to try and get me up.

"No Soda, I really don't want to. Maybe another time." I say with a groan. I don't want to drive. Ever.

"That's it. No Curtis brother living in this house will not know how to drive." Soda says, throwing me over his shoulder. I hate being the smallest one out of the gang.

"No, Soda please don't make me do this." I yell, hitting Soda's back with my fists.

"Quit your yammering. You'll be fine." He says. I hear the door open and the next thing I know we're outside. Soda throws me in the driver's seat of Darry's truck and I feel my palms start to sweat and my heart beat start to quicken.

"Ponyboy, are you alright?" Darry asks. He was already in the car waiting for us. Soda climbs in the cab of the truck, sandwiching Darry in the middle.

Maybe Soda was right, maybe I have to get over this. No one knows about my secret fear anyway. Why don't I just grow up and get my license so no one has to know that I was ever afraid of driving a car? "Yeah, I'm good." I say. I turn the keys in the ignition and the purr of the engine makes my stomach turn. I close my eyes and visions of train tracks and tire marks flash through my head. All I can think about is my parents being crushed by that train like they were made of nothing more than cookie dough.

"Ponyboy, check your mirrors and make sure you can see everything behind you. And for goodness sakes, open your eyes. You need to look where you're going." Darry says and I shake myself out of my thoughts.

"The mirrors are fine." I say, finding it harder and harder to breathe with each passing second.

"Relax, we haven't even started moving yet." Soda says, probably noticing my terrified expression.

I grip the steering wheel tightly and put the truck in gear before I tap the gas peddle. I feel something rise up in my throat and I slam on the brakes with both feet. I turn off the car immediately.

"Ponyboy, stop! What's wrong with you?" Darry asks. Soda says something else but I can't focus on anything but the memory of my ambulance ride, my parent's accident, and Johnny's ride to his funeral in a casket in the back of a hearse. For me, cars are nothing but pain and bad news. I can't breathe. I claw at my chest while l scramble to unbuckle myself.

"I can't breathe." I wheeze, looking at Darry for help.

"Hey, it's alright. Everything will be okay, you're having a panic attack. Stay calm, Soda's coming around the other side to help you." Darry says, talking to me as if I was some wounded animal while he unbuckles my seat belt. I fumble with the door handle but Soda beats me to it and I tumble out of the truck and have never been more grateful to see concrete in my life. I feel like a baby but I can't stop crying and Soda sits on the ground and pulls me with him. I lean into him and he rocks me back and forth.

"Hey we've talked about this. Take a breathand in, hold it, and out." Soda says, repeating his instructions until they start to sink in. Darry kneels in front of me and both he and Soda demonstrate how I should be breathing. Eventually, I calm down enough to wipe the tears of my face and I start breathing more normally.

Darry and Soda looked relieved. "Jeez, you scared us big time! What's the matter with you?" Darry asks.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened." I say, my bottom lip trembling. I hate crying in front of other people.

"It's alright. Lay off Darry. Let's just go back inside." Soda says before helping me to my feet. I don't think I want to get in the driver's seat ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello everyone! I know it's been a while and I'm sorry about that. I just wanted to say that I know some people don't like Cherry being apart of this storyline or understand why she's so significant but she will be to Ponyboy. Chapter two was confusing for some so I took it down so you can forget about it or not, it was just to show how much Ponyboy does for her and that will be shown in this chapter too. Sorry if you don't like it or think that the storyline has changed too much. Thanks to anyone reading!**

 **...**

Rainy Saturday mornings. It's mornings like these when my motivation to do anything just seems to have been zapped away. I'm sitting on the porch, drinking coffee out of my favorite mug and wearing only sweatpants as I watch the rain wash away the dusty boot print marks off the steps. Darry and Soda left an hour ago but I couldn't sleep so I came out here to pass the time. Suddenly, I hear the rumble of an engine and I look up to see a car swerving down the road at well above seventy miles per hour. The car comes screeching to a jerky halt in front of my house and I'm pretty sure whoever is driving just gave themself whiplash.

"Ponyboy!" Curly says, leaning over and pushing the passenger door open. "My window is busted, I don't want to hear a word about it out of you though. You're always trashing my girl." He explains after seeing my confused expression, his words slurring a little bit. He sits up and leans back in the driver's seat, one arm resting against the closed window.

"I should've known it was you, no one else around here owns a rust bucket like that. Now that I think about, the screeching noise that poor car makes when you're driving does sound familiar." I say with a teasing grin.

"Shut the hell up, Curtis! Don't insult my baby, this is my independence right here." He says, patting the dashboard fondly and I can tell he's been drinking.

"Are you drunk? Get out of the car you asshole, you're going to kill someone driving around like that." I say, all playfulness gone as I put my mug on the ground and jog down the steps, the rain turning every inch of skin that it touches into ice.

"Screw off, I'm fine. Listen, I came here as a favor to you. Do you want me to tell you or not?" Curly says although he never actually lowers his voice even though I'm right next to him now.

"Stop messing around, of course I want you to tell me. Spit it out." I say, shifting from one ice cold foot to the other in an attempt to warm myself up.

"I was at a party last night, somewhere near the old movie theater, and your girl Cherry was there. She's on the wrong side of town, man. I was drinking and having a good time and I thought she left early but when I woke up I saw her in the living room. She didn't look so good, you might want to go get her before she finds herself in some actual trouble." Curly says, coughing to clear his throat after.

"Jesus, why didn't you bring her here with you?" I ask, throwing my hands in the air.

"Do I look like her keeper? I don't even know why you act like you are but I know you would go mental if something happened to her. I mean she's a nice girl and all but I don't think she's worth everything you've gone through for her." Curly says, shaking his head.

"It's none of your business and she's not my girl." I say sharply. I hate when people talk bad about Cherry.

"Relax, I didn't even have to come here in the first place. I'm just speaking my mind. I don't think she's good for you. Last time she called you to come and get her you got your arm snapped in two." He says.

"I know, thank you for reminding me. I have to go. Is there any chance that I convince you stick around?" I ask, worried for his safety.

"Nah, I'm just going to go home and sleep it off. See ya 'round." Curly says, giving me a wave as he puts his car in gear. "For the record, I was the one who told you where she was for the sake of your sanity but I advised you not to go if your brothers try and come after me for this."

"Got it, they won't. Don't worry about it and be careful." I say before I turn around to go inside and get a sweatshirt.

"Will do. And put on a shirt jackass!" Curly yells, slamming the passenger door and tearing off down the road before I can say anything else.

…

After getting dressed in two minutes flat, I took a three mile bus ride to the old theater and then wandered around until I saw a house with a trashed front lawn and people spilling out of it at about a rate of two people every five minutes. Everyone's probably just waking up now and heading home. I cross my fingers and hope I found the right place. It took me about a half an hour total to get here so there's a good chance that Cherry might've already left. I step into the dimly lit house and there are people sprawled out on the carpet everywhere and a horrific smell hits me full force. Everyone here has to be at least five years older than me. I take a look around and even in this terrible lighting Cherry's shocking red hair stands out and that's what I see first.

She's laying on the couch, her nice outfit rumpled and her eyes barely open. "C'mon babe, you look like you need to relax, do you want a massage?" A guy asks, sitting down next to her. He pushes her legs off the couch and pulls her against him, putting his hands on his shoulders.

She mumbles something incomprehensible and clumsily tries to swat him away. I'm shocked into action and almost trip over three people trying to get to her.

"Leave her alone man." I say and he whirls around, letting his hands drop from her neck.

"What are you, twelve? What the hell are you doing here?" He asks, sneering.

"C'mon Cherry. Let's get out of here." I say, ignoring the blonde jerk next to her.

"Ponyboy?" She asks, turning to look at me but her head keeps dropping. I've always hated the sight of someone passing out or someone on the verge of passing out. For some reason it always scares me senseless.

"Yeah it's me. How are you doing?" I ask gently as I take her hand and pull her to a standing position. She sways on her feet even as I try and hold her steady. _Shoot._

"I'm alright, it's so nice to see you though!" She says, attempting to give me a smile.

"That's good." I say. "Can you walk outside with me?" I ask.

"Yeah just give me a minute. I'm so tired, I just want to rest." Cherry says as she tries to sink to the floor.

The creepy guy next to me is staring at us in amusement and he leans back, lighting a cigarette as if he was enjoying this spectacle. I have such a strong urge to punch him in the face and I would if Cherry didn't need help.

"No don't sit down!" I say.

Cherry kind of goes limp in my arms. "I really don't feel well." She groans.

"I know, you're going to be okay. Just hold on a little longer." I beg as I pull her up enough to pick her up bridal style. Cherry's head lolls against my chest and I look around and grab a wool blanket off the couch to cover her with. I recognize her purse on the floor and bend down to pick it up, trying very hard to not drop Cherry or fall over. I step over a few people and walk outside. Just being out of that house makes breathing seem easier.

"Did you drive here?" I ask, staring at a red Sting Ray. I know what the answer is before she even nods. When I got off the bus I looked at the schedule and there wasn't going to be another one coming through for an hour and I need to get Cherry home. With shakings hand I walk over to her car, and set her down so I can root through her purse for her keys. I find them and unlock the car, throwing her purse in the back and helping her into the passenger seat.

I sit in the driver's seat, my knuckles turning white as I grip the steering wheel.


	3. Chapter 3

I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white, hoping that I can relieve some of my anxiety that way. I have to force myself to try and not think about anything as I take a few deep breaths. The effort it takes to try and not think about the memories that fuel a lot of my anxiety is distracting me from focusing on the task at hand which makes me even more nervous. My arms begin to shake and I force myself to put the key in the ignition, my heart revving when the engine does. I try and put the car in gear but don't push down the peddle enough and the engine roars loudly. My stomach clenches involuntarily.

That's almost enough to make me turn the car off and for me to get out right then and there but then I look over and see the stress lines etched into Cherry's forehead, even as she's sleeping, and I'm reminded that I did this to her. I'm the reason that Bob is dead, I'm the reason that she changed. Most people's first serious relationship is one that they think back on fondly as something special they shared with someone they loved. Cherry's first relationship had some issues but nothing could ever have prepared her to have her first love ripped away from her violently, nothing could have prepared her for the fact that it would be the reason she still cries herself to sleep sometimes. They didn't get to part ways like many teenagers who are young and in love but happened to be separated by different life paths do. The least I could do is give her a stupid ride home. I push down the brake and the clutch pedal as I shift the gearshift and when it slides into place I let out a sigh of relief. I slowly put my foot on the gas and drive the car away from the curb. _I'm actually doing it._

I move at a snail's pace down the road, not wanting to lose focus on the task at hand. I try and multitask enough to remember the way home. Even though a small bead of sweat breaks out on my forehead because I'm so nervous, on the inside I'm swelling with pride and happiness. I just hope I don't get pulled over. I'm about a mile into the three-mile trip back, the sound of the rain dancing on the top of the car has sort of become soothing. I pump the breaks like Darry and Soda taught me and glide to a stop before a stop sign. If only they could see me now. I look both ways and am about to drive across the intersection when a car comes barreling around the turn behind me. They realize that I'm here and lay on the horn, snapping me out of my frozen with fear state. I throw the car into any gear and slam my foot on the gas. I just barely move in time before the other car makes a wild right turn, tearing off down the dirt path. Just two seconds ago that would've been us and they would've slammed into the back of our car. My breath catches in my chest and as I try and pull the car to the side of the road, it stalls and shudders to a stop.

I fumble for the door handle and push my way outside, gasping for air. The rain pours over me, soaking my shirt through in fifteen seconds. I lean over the embankment on the side of the road and put my hands on my knees. I feel like I'm going to be sick. That was too close for comfort. I try and concentrate on something else and after two minutes I'm able to breathe normally only after I thought of a way to get home without having to get in that stupid car again. Well, it looks like we're walking.

…

For the first half mile, I was able to carry Cherry with no problems but my arms began to give out and I couldn't keep going like that for much longer. It's so cold and the rain continues to bite into my skin but I covered Cherry with the blanket and tried to turn her head to my chest so her face wouldn't get drenched. For the last mile and a half, I alternated between carrying her bridal style and carrying her over my shoulder. Each dip in the road or slight misstep caused her to shift and every small movement she made made me feel like a mailbox post that someone was hammering into the ground. I swear I could feel my spine compressing.

I decided not to even bother trying to walk her all the way home, my house was closer. I finally, after what felt like hours of me struggling and shivering, made it to my street and I was six houses away from mine. My eyes were locked on my house and I was too distracted to notice a pot hole in the road. I snagged my foot in it and rolled my ankle. "Shit!" I yell as I trip and slam into the ground knees first. Cherry is jostled awake as she clings to my shoulders and falls forward. Today is really not my day.

"Ponyboy? What the hell is going on? Where are we?" She asks, rubbing her eyes in confusion as she pulls the now soaking wet blanket tighter around her.

"We're almost to my house. I freaked out and couldn't drive you home so I walked you back." I say, hissing in pain as I sit back on my heels and then sit on the ground as try and extend my legs. One knee is bleeding pretty bad but the second the rain touches any blood, it turns pink and drips onto the ground. The other one is starting to bruise and my ankle is already starting to swell.

"Ponyboy, you didn't have to do that!" she says groggily.

"I wasn't just going to leave you there!" I yell, flinching as I try and stand up. I offer her a hand. "C'mon let's get out of this rain." I say as I help her to her feet. She sways a little bit but wraps her arm around me.

"Let me help you home now, look at you. What a mess we are." Cherry says, giggling a little. I would've laughed too if everything didn't hurt so bad. "We'll get there, I'll teach you how to drive whenever you want. I really owe you one. I owe you a few ones actually."

"Thanks." I say quietly, realizing that Cherry has her flaws and I have mine but even though there was an easy, drier way to get here she was patient and never got upset that I had to leave her tuff car in a random place, that she was now walking home in a relentless rain storm, and I wasn't upset that I spent my afternoon picking her up from a dodgy place because we're friends. We've gotten closer these past few years. We've learned to help each other through the lows and I think Cherry might be the perfect person to help me through this too.


End file.
